


The Last Time

by cyus (cruentum)



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Cunnilingus, F/M, Sibling Incest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-07-23
Updated: 2012-07-23
Packaged: 2017-11-10 13:30:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 719
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/466841
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cruentum/pseuds/cyus
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She'd be Arthur's tomorrow. Elyan had kept her safe through the years, and loved, and cherished, and tonight was their last time.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Last Time

**Author's Note:**

> written for [Merlin summerpornathon](http://summerpornathon.livejournal.com) round 4: Minor Characters

Elyan couldn't help his fingers on her thigh, couldn't help her smile as he caught Gwen's lips with his own over dinner.

"The last one," she'd said, clinking glasses like she'd seen at court, and Elyan had nodded, unable to not see her as the woman with the curves and the sex, hard to see her as the girl he'd known years ago, the sister he'd known before he'd left.

She was coy now, brushing her hair past her ear, playing with the fabric over her breast, looking at him longer when she caught him staring, then letting his fingers slip down her dress. They'd been children back in the days, they could hardly pretend to be children now.

He'd never see her like that again. The thought kept running through Elyan's mind, incessantly, that half-naked like this, with her breasts high on her chest and her hair just above her sex, he'd never quite see her like this again. He kissed down Gwen's shoulder to her breast, to her nipples, the candle light flickering and reflecting off her skin, and knelt in front of her, hands on her thighs.

She spread for him, easy and familiar, and he leaned in until he had his mouth pressed to her lips and slickness, until he slurped like he'd not had a woman in years (and he hadn't), like he'd had no other place to be but here (and he didn't). He had nothing on Arthur's status, nothing on his hair and body, but as Gwen buried her hand in his hair and pulled him in tight until his nose was pressed to her skin and her scent and her wetness was everything he could taste and smell, he felt a little like he meant something.

She'd have her own bed with Arthur. Her own maid.

Elyan licked along her slit and pushed his tongue inside, made her spread her legs for him like she wouldn't for anyone else, not even Arthur. She leaned against the table in the kitchen, their dinner still on the plates half eaten and her skirt pulled up to her legs until she dropped it over his head, bathing him in darkness and in her scent. He flicked his tongue over her clit and thrust his fingers into her, fucking her better than anyone else, knowing better than anyone else what she liked, what she did to herself at night when she let him watch, what she wished her lovers would do when they were too busy chaisng their own pleasure. He sucked her clit between his lips and didn't let go until he straightened and came up for air from under her skirt and pushed her up on the table and the plates aside.

"He'll never have you like this," Elyan said, leaning in close to her lips as he pushed his cock into her, pushing into her wet, tight heat, near-virginal because brothers were trusted with virtue and he'd always kept it safe and to himself. "Never like this." Because he knew her like no one else, where she'd skinned her knee and where she'd sent him crying.

Arthur might be her king, and her husband come morning, but he wasn't inside her now, didn't see her eyes as he pushed in deeper, and a little deeper, until he was all the way inside her, stretching her and having her take him.

"The last one," she said, like she'd only have Arthur in his chambers, like she'd not walk down here, and hike up her dress, and bent over neat as he pulled off his chainmail and pushed into her. As if she could do without his whispers in the dead of the night, telling her stories like he'd had when they'd been children.

"The last one," she said, on a moan, fingers pale on his arm and the table as she held down, breasts catching on the rough wood with every thrust deep into her, every spurt of come. Because she'd be Arthur's tomorrow. Come deep inside her, Elyan's come, she'd become Arthur's wife and queen, and he'd look on, knowing his cock stayed dry while Arthur's took its rightful place.

"Mine tonight," Elyan whispered into her ear as he ground into her. There'd be time enough to think about tomorrow. Time enough.


End file.
